


don't want to cry, but i break that way

by blissfulbughead



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bughead as parents, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Sad bughead, Tissues may be needed, aka betty is shot because i like making jughead suffer for some unexcusable reason, betty and jughead have a son and a daughter, bughead - Freeform, depending on how emotionally unstable you are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfulbughead/pseuds/blissfulbughead
Summary: if only he had offered to stay home with the kids instead. maybe he’d be the one dead instead of her. that, he would’ve been okay with. he could’ve died in peace, knowing that it was him instead of betty. but of course, the world hated him too much to let it be that easy.orjughead comes home to police surrounding his house only to find that betty has been murdered, leaving him in an unbearable amount of pain.
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	don't want to cry, but i break that way

**Author's Note:**

> Hello beautiful readers! I'm so sorry for the lack of posting, but luckily I was able to put something together as of the past six hours (yes, it is currently five in the morning and I haven't slept) and to be quite honest, I'm proud of how it turned out.  
> Fair warning, tissues may be needed, especially if you're listening to sad slowed songs like I was while writing and proofreading this (it adds to the experience, what can I say), so just keep that in mind!  
> And with that, I hope you do enjoy.
> 
> PS: Yes, bughead are parents in this oneshot, however, it is not at all related to my current bughead as parents collection.

Summer had turned to fall as of the past few weeks. It could easily be seen as Jughead glanced out the front window of the van he and Betty had bought this time last year to find an array of browning leaves, fluttering down from the trees they once accompanied.  


Jughead changed stations on the stereo in the center console, but nothing played that he would recognize. Almost every single station was playing something along the lines of ‘today’s hits’ which you would think that someone who’s only twenty-four years of age would be used to by now or at least know the titles of. But being that his time as an immature twenty-year-old was cut short (not that he ever wanted that lifestyle for himself in the first place) by the marriage to the love of his life and the birth of their first child that was followed a year and a half later by their second, Jughead didn’t have much time to divulge himself into the culture of pop music.  


In fact, this was one of the rare moments where he didn’t have to hear the arguments that started between his kids over which song should be played next. Harlow’s vote was, without fail, always a song from her favorite Disney movie which changed at least once a week. Oakley on the other hand preferred the nursery rhymes that his mom would sing to him before bed every night. When the disagreements would get too heated and result in the sister and brother screaming at each other (which they so often did), Jughead would offer that they play a round of rock, paper, scissors, and whoever wins, gets to play their song of choice. It worked like a charm.  


He checked the time on the dashboard to see how close he was cutting it to dinner. 5:37. Jughead let out a frustrated sigh as he ended up getting stopped at yet another red light. It had to be at least the sixth one so far and it wasn’t like his job was that far away. The drive was only thirty minutes there and back, but with all of the traffic and red lights, forty-five minutes had already gone by and he could tell by the small shopping mall towards his left, that he still had fifteen minutes to go on a normal workday.  


“Great,” Jughead murmured to himself before reaching for his phone that was sitting in a cup holder. Since he was completely stopped and even if the light did turn green, he wouldn’t even be able to move his car, Jughead decided that there would hardly be any risk in making a phone call to Betty to let her know the current state of his situation.  


Once he dialed in her contact, the phone rang at least five times which was odd. She usually answered him pretty quickly. Maybe the kids needed her help with something or she was too busy making dinner to hear him calling. Whatever it may be, Betty’s prerecorded voice followed suit and after the beep sounded, Jughead started to leave her a voicemail, “Hey, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m stuck in traffic and I have no idea what time I’ll be home. I’m assuming the kids are starving so don’t feel pressured to wait for me. I’m hoping that the traffic lets up soon, but being that I left work at 4:50 and I’m only in front of the shopping mall parking lot, I really don’t see that happening.” He sighed before continuing, “Well, that’s all I guess. I’ll see you when I get there. I love you. Bye.”  


Jughead put his phone back in the cup holder and turned the stereo off because whatever new song Harry something or another released last week was starting to annoy him. He’d rather sit in silence and let the curiosity of what Betty was making for dinner, consume him.

Jughead couldn’t help but smile as the light finally turned green and he could get off the exit that would lead him down the street to his house where he could enjoy dinner with his family at last. That was all that he could think about as he took a left onto the culdesac where their house was located, so much so, that Jughead didn’t even notice the crowd of people surrounding his driveway, let alone the swarm of police officers.  


It was actually the flash of red and blue lights that made him snap out of the trance he was in and take in what was going on.  


“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he put his car in park across the street since he wasn’t able to get to his driveway for whatever reason.  


Jughead grabbed his phone and put it in his back pocket before shutting the car door behind him and walking up to the crowd of people.  


He glanced at a few of the people’s faces and didn’t recognize any of them. The only thing he could recognize was the sympathetic look that everyone was giving him. It reminded him of the way that his classmates had looked at him when he returned back to Riverdale High after the death faking incident all those years ago.  


Once the crowd eventually parted for him, Jughead was able to reach the huddle of police officers. “Hey!” He called out which got their attention. “What the hell is going on and why is there yellow caution tape around my front yard?”  


A man dressed in a sheriff’s uniform turned to face him. “Are you Forsythe Pendelton Jones the third?”  


“I go by Jughead, but yeah, that’s me. Now answer my question. What’s going on here?”  


He heard the man sigh before saying, “My name is Sheriff Wilson. What I’m about to tell you is going to be very upsetting so I think it would be best if you drove over with me to the police station or the hospital so you can have medical services there if needed.”  


“What? No, I don’t need medical services. What I need is for you to tell me why there are so many people in front of my house and where my wife and kids are,” Jughead replied coldly.  
“Your kids are at the nearest hospital with a woman named Alice Smith who I believe is their grandmother. Is that correct?”  


“Yes, but why are they there without my wife? She was the one with them when I left this morning,” Jughead explained.  


“Mr. Jones, I don’t know how to say this, but uh… your wife’s gone.”  


Jughead stared at him for a moment, not quite understanding what the sheriff was trying to say. “You mean she’s missing?” He asked.  


“No, sir. She passed away,” Sheriff Wilson said remorsefully. “I’m so sorry.”  


Jughead swallowed and stared at the man again. “I don’t think I’m following,” He replied.  


“We got a call at 4:24 this afternoon from one of your neighbor’s saying that they had heard gunshots coming from your house. We got here as soon as we could, but unfortunately, Mrs. Jones was gone before the medical staff could get to her. Thankfully, your children were hiding under one of the beds so they are perfectly fine, physically. We tried calling you multiple times, but it just kept going to voicemail so the next emergency contact on your wife’s phone was her mother, Alice Smith. She arrived here about thirty minutes ago and took your children to the nearest hospital. Ms. Smith said to inform you that she’ll stay there with them until you’re able to get there. But I just want you to know, Mr. Jones, that we’re not going to stop until your wife’s killer is caught. I promise that we’ll…”  


Jughead had heard enough of this supposed sheriff’s lies. This was some mean, screwed up prank that someone was playing on him. Maybe it was Andy from work. He always seemed like he had a bone to pick with Jughead and his family. If that son of a bitch was behind this, then Jughead was going to put him six feet under when he got back to his office the following week.  


Jughead made quick work of stepping past Sheriff Wilson and the other policemen who tried blocking him from the house. “This is an active crime scene, sir! You can’t go in there!” One had called which Jughead yelled back, “You don’t know shit!” One grabbed Jughead’s arm to hold him back, but the raven-haired was stronger and shoved him aside before running up to the front door that was wide open.  


“Betty!” Jughead called as he stepped into the entryway. “Betts, you won’t believe what’s going on outside. There’s police out front saying that someone heard gunshots, but I think they’re just trying to prank us or something. I don’t know why anyone would do-”  


He stopped as he stepped foot into the living room and saw three more police standing over a bundle of a white tarp.  


But it wasn’t a bundle.  


It was a body.  


Her body.  


Betty’s body.  


“Betty?” He whispered.  


All three police quickly looked up at him and one walked up to him, trying to push him out of the room. “Sir, I need you to please step outside.”  


“No, you don’t understand. This is my house and my wife is over there, asleep on the floor. She’s just-” Jughead stammered as he struggled to get out of the man’s grip.  


“Larry!” He heard the Sheriff call from behind him. “Let him go.”  


Larry hesitated before releasing Jughead from his grip who brushed off the front of his jacket.  


“But, Sheriff Wilson, it’s very important that we don’t disturb the victim until all the tests are done and-”  


“Do I look like I’m new here? I know how a crime scene works,” Sheriff Wilson argued before looking over at the two other policemen. “All three of you, go outside and run your reports by the others.”  


“But if he-” Larry started.  


“Leave him alone, Larry. The kid’s wife was just shot,” Sheriff Wilson murmured to Larry as he walked by so they were out of Jughead’s earshot.  


Larry sighed and nodded before following the other policemen out of the house. Sheriff Wilson watched as Jughead lowered himself to the floor and reached for the white tarp over Betty.  


There was red punch all over Betty’s stomach. Harlow or Oakley must have spilt some on her by accident and she didn’t have time to clean it up before someone decided to do this awful prank. That was the only explanation he could think of. “Betty,” He spoke quietly, but firmly enough so she would wake up. “Betty, wake up.”  


He reached up to cup the sides of her face, but when his hands met her skin, it felt like he was touching ice cubes, certainly not the pale cheeks of his wife. His confused expression only got deeper as he noticed that her lips were a light shade of blue and her skin was the palest he had ever seen it be. “Betty,” Jughead said again, but this time with more concern etched into his voice. “You need to wake up, Betts. One of the policemen said that Harlow and Oakley are at the hospital with your mom, and I’m sure they’re scared and confused so we need to go make sure they’re okay.”  


He waited for something. Maybe not a verbal response, but at least some sort of movement, a shifting behind her eyelids, anything that would show him that she’s able to hear what he’s saying. “Can you hear me, Betty?” He inquired, shaking her ever so slightly. But it was slight enough for her head to loll the side. The irrational side of his brain wanted it to mean that yes, she did hear him and she was expressing that by leaning into his embrace. The rational side of him, however, told him what he had been trying to deny ever since he saw the flashing lights of the police cars.  


She wasn’t hearing him.  


She would never hear him again.  


She wouldn’t hear him whisper how much he loves her as they lay in bed at night ever again.  


Just the thought of that, pushed him into another spiral of denial. He shook her again, this time more roughly, and her body made the same movement of lolling her head to the side. “Betty,” He whispered, fighting back the lump in his throat. “Come on,” He urged. “Wake up. Please.” While he didn’t let the lump in his throat win the internal war they were fighting, the tears did. He kept begging her to wake up and for a split second, his mind tricked him into thinking that she was the one who was crying when he saw that a few droplets had formed on her cheeks. Jughead quickly wiped them away and tried to reassure her by whispering softly, “It’s okay. Don’t cry, Betts. I’m here. Just please, wake up. I need to see those beautiful emerald eyes of yours.”  


Even with all of his begging, she still wasn’t waking up.  


Jughead looked down at the rest of her body and saw that there was even more red punch beside her. He slowly pulled the tarp back and noticed that there were deep gashes in the skin of her stomach that he could see through the cream-colored blouse he had gotten her for her Christmas this past winter.  


Jughead started piecing together that maybe the red punch all over her wasn’t actually red punch. His eyes had been deceiving him and hiding him from the fact that Betty was hurt badly and she needed his help. “You’re bleeding,” He said breathlessly while pressing his hands to her stomach. When he expected to feel the wetness and stickiness that blood always brought, he was surprised when his hand was met with a dry substance that didn’t feel anything like blood usually did. Jughead slowly pulled his hand away and saw that there was nothing on it. Not even a drop. It was dry.  


He looked back up at her closed eyes before putting a hand on her chest, hoping to feel its steady rise and fall. Instead, there was nothing. “She’s not breathing!” Jughead exclaimed, but to whom, he wasn’t sure.  


He didn’t even know if there was anyone else in the room with him besides Betty, but his question was answered when the Sheriff spoke from a few feet away. “I know, son.”  


“I need to help her. She needs CPR,” He insisted as he plugged her nose with his thumb and index finger before lowering his lips to hers, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. Her lips were as cold as her skin had been, but he didn’t care in the slightest. Jughead would give her every last breath of his if he had to.  


After a few moments, he rose and continued the CPR process by pressing his hands to her chest and doing the movements he had learned from a parenting class he had taken when Betty was pregnant with Harlow.  


He could taste the salt from his tears as he kept pressing his lips to hers, over and over.  


He wasn’t sure how long he had been doing CPR, or even if he was doing CPR at all for that matter. Subconsciously, he had given up on getting air into her lungs after minutes had gone by and instead hoped that maybe he could kiss her back to life instead.  


“Come on, Betty,” He whispered against her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off much longer. “Wake up,” He begged. “I can’t do this one my own.”  


Sheriff Wilson watched the man from a few feet away. But in this moment, he saw a boy, fighting to bring back the life of the girl he so desperately loved. And it was making his heart break more than he’d ever like to admit.  


Being the county Sheriff, Carson Wilson had taken part in some cases that shook him to his core, that he’d lost sleep over, but he knew that from this moment forward, none would ever amount to the sight before him: A scared, terrified boy, on his knees begging the dead love of his life to not leave him alone in this world with his two beautiful children who were so young and already needing to live the rest of their lives without a mother.  


The Sheriff wanted to help as best he could and right now, having two kids of his own, he knew that this man’s children needed their daddy. So he took the remaining few steps towards the grieving man and placed a hand on his shoulder.  


“Son, I think it’s time that we let her rest,” He said, keeping his voice level and calm.  


“No,” Jughead cried. “No, she hasn’t woken up yet. She needs to wake up.” He continued the same pattern of pressing his lips to hers and every few moments, pulling away to see if she’s opened her eyes yet.  


“You’ve done all that you could,” Sheriff Wilson reassured.  


“Please just let it be me,” He sobbed. “It should be me, it should be me.”  


“There isn’t anything else you could’ve done, Mr. Jones.”

“She doesn’t deserve this. I do.” Jughead looked up at the man with tears staining his face. “Please just put me in her place. Please.”

“I can’t, son.”

“You have to. I can’t do this without her.”

“I know. But your children need to know that their dad is okay.”  


“Harlow and Oakley,” He whispered after a few moments. “I need to be with them.”  


“That’s right,” The Sheriff answered as he gently helped Jughead stand. “How about I drive you over to the hospital so you can see them?” He nodded again but didn’t make any effort to move away from Betty’s body. “Come on, Mr. Jones.”  


“I just need to say goodbye,” Jughead whispered as he lowered himself back down to the floor again.  


“I’ll be waiting in the other room,” Sheriff Wilson said, figuring that this would be a more private moment than the previous ones.  


Jughead didn’t know what to say or even how to begin to say goodbye. So instead he reached for Betty’s hand that was limp at her side and laced her cold fingers through his. He brought her hand up to his lips and held it there. “I love you,” He whispered, but his voice was scratchy and barely even audible. “So incredibly much. I promise to be the best parent I could possibly be for Harlow and Oakley. And I promise that I’m going to find whoever did this to you and make sure they rot in a cell for the rest of their goddamn life.” He kissed her hand briefly before lowering it back to its place beside her. “I promise.” Jughead then caressed the side of her cheek for a moment while gazing down at her closed eyes. She looked peaceful. He knew that when she died, it wasn’t a peaceful death, but for now, he could pretend. He could pretend that she was asleep so he whispered the one phrase that he knew led her into a blissful and deep sleep every night. “I love you.” He repeated it over and over, each time more quieter than the last until he was just mouthing the words through his sobs.

The drive to the hospital was so silent, it was deafening. Jughead kept his gaze firmly rooted out the passenger window as he tried to keep his overwhelming emotions at bay. He needed to be strong for them. For Harlow and Oakley. He wasn’t sure how aware they were of what had happened, but he figured they would have questions and he needed to be prepared with answers that wouldn’t break their, tiny, fragile hearts. Eventually, he knew that the truth would need to be told, but for now, he couldn’t imagine putting his kids through even a fraction of the amount of pain he was going through. So he wouldn’t. He would protect them from all the dangers that the world brought with it. But that’s when the doubt came in. He hadn’t done a good job of that today. If only he had offered to stay home with the kids instead. Maybe he’d be the one dead instead of her. That, he would’ve been okay with. He could’ve died in peace, knowing that it was him instead of Betty. But of course, the world hated him too much to let it be that easy.  


“We’re here,” Sheriff Wilson said quietly. Jughead stayed seated and didn’t make any signs of acknowledging the Sheriff’s statement. The older man sighed. “There’s only so much you can protect them from.”  


Jughead eventually looked over at him, his eyes were red-rimmed and terrified and tired all in one. Had he said all of those things out loud? Maybe he had, he didn’t have any idea anymore. Instead of replying, he just nodded before getting out of the car and making the descent towards the hospital.  


It wasn’t until Jughead looked up at the sign in front of the building that he realized this was the same hospital that Betty had given birth to both of their kids. He bit his lip to stop himself from letting the tears fall once more and walked into the lobby.  


Once he was in, his eyes scanned across all of the empty chairs until they landed on a sleeping Alice with Harlow and Oakley, each tucked into her side with their eyes closed. For a split second, the image of Betty’s closed eyes shot through his mind, but he subdued that image as he walked over to his kids and mother-in-law. He carefully squatted in front of them, and placed a gentle hand, first on Harlow’s shoulder, then Oakley’s so he wouldn’t startle them.  


Harlow was the first to wake. “Daddy?” She said quietly.  


“Hi, angel,” Jughead whispered back.  


The five-year-old climbed out of her seat and into her dad’s lap, hugging him tight. It took all of Jughead’s remaining strength to fight back the lump in his throat that had tripled in size so he wouldn’t lose it all right now in front of his little girl.  


“I didn’t cry, daddy. I stayed strong so Oakley wasn’t scared when that man came into the house. But I was really scared when I heard a loud bang and I told Oakley that we had to stay where we were. He kept asking about mommy and I was worried about her too, but I didn’t want her to be mad that we had come out of hiding when she told us to stay there as long as we could,” Harlow explained with her face buried in Jughead’s neck.  


“You did so good, baby,” He whispered in response so his daughter wouldn’t be able to hear his voice breaking at the bare thought of his kids being scared for their lives, all because he wasn’t there to protect them. “I love you so much, you know that right?”  


He could feel her nod against him. Harlow eventually pulled away so she could look in her dad’s eyes and he could tell that she had been crying. “Something bad happened to mommy, didn’t it?” Harlow spoke, but her voice was so quiet that Jughead knew it was so her brother wouldn’t be able to hear her speak if he had woken up yet.  


He wasn’t sure how to answer. Here, his five-year-old daughter was sitting on his lap and practically asking if her mom had been murdered in front of her. How was he supposed to reply to that without putting her through all the pain he had been dealing with for the past few hours?  


“She’s not coming home.” The little girl said it as a statement after Jughead failed to answer her first question. It sounded as if it was a confirmation of what she had been thinking ever since she heard the loud bang coming from the living room.  


Jughead could barely look his daughter in the eyes when he answered by saying, “No, she’s not, Hars.”  


He expected Harlow to cry, sob, show any regular sign of grief that a five-year-old should when they find out that their mom died, but instead she just nods as if she’s accepted defeat and hugs Jughead again.  


“I’m so sorry,” Jughead whispered into her raven hair.  


“I’m glad you’re okay, daddy,” She replied.  


“Daddy?” Another voice questioned as Oakley rubbed his tired eyes.  


“Hey, bud,” Jughead said, outstretching his free arm. Oakley quickly climbed out of the chair and into his dad’s embrace.  


Alice started to stir and she soon woke to see Jughead hugging his two kids tightly as they were both seated on his lap, their heads tucked into each of his shoulders.  


Once he noticed that she was awake, the two adults met eyes and shared a silent sentiment. They were going to catch whoever tore their family apart and make sure Betty gets justice, no matter how difficult it may be.  


“Is mommy going to be here soon?” Oakley, just barely turning four, couldn’t fully grasp onto what had really happened.  


“No, Oak, she isn’t,” Jughead answered truthfully, but tearfully.  


“Oh,” The young boy replied. “We’ll see her later?”  


“Mommy’s just going to be sleeping for a long time. But she’s resting and peaceful now, so you don’t need to worry about her, okay, bud?” Jughead said.  


“Okay,” Oakley replied.  


He knew that his son still thought he’d be able to see his mom again, and maybe he would in the afterlife, whatever that consisted of. Soon, Oakley will start to understand what really happened, and maybe not as soon, but eventually, Jughead along with the rest of his family will get the justice for Betty that she deserves, but for now, holding his kids in his arms, is enough for him.  
And as unlikely as it may be, he can feel that Betty’s presence is there with them, returning the whisper of the phrase he had left her with.


End file.
